“Nah. Thanks though. We’re gonna take the boys to that new park by the house.”
Till poked his head through the window. “Okay, ladies. Bad news. We’re out of coffee. But Quarry’s on his way over. He said he’d pick up Starbucks.”
Noooooo! my mind screamed.
When I felt all of their eyes land on me, I realized my mouth had screamed it too.
“Something against Starbucks?” Till asked.
“I’m just…not a fan.”
I touched your brother’s penis, and now, I’m scared he’s going to want to talk about it.
“Seriously?” Eliza gasped.
Dear God, please don’t let me have said that out loud too.
“You drink it all the time.”
Thank you, baby Jesus. “Yeah. I’m just sick of it. That’s all. It’s fine though. Really. Q knows my order.” I relaxed once they’d seemed to buy it.
“You got any soda? I need a barrel if I’m going to survive today,” Ash said, discarding her biscuit and moving Till’s way.
“I’m not sure about a barrel, but I have at least one in the outside fridge,” he replied, helping her through the window.
Two of her fingers shot back through the opening. “Peace out, ladies.”
We called after her.
“Bye.”
“Later.”
Then Eliza turned her attention my way. “Are you sure everything’s okay? You seem…weirder than usual.”
“Weirder than usual? That’s exactly what I was going for this morning.”
“I just mean…”
“I know, I know. I’m exhausted. That’s all. I’m gonna nap until the coffee arrives. Then I’m going to drink it and then nap some more.”
She gave me the side eye but let it go.
I was acting weirder than usual, but that was only the tip of the iceberg for what was going on inside me.
We watched Project Runway for about five minutes until Eliza dozed off. If I’d known that Quarry would be up so early, I would have stayed locked in my room, pretending to sleep, while I paced my room all day. I loved a lazy hangover party as much as the next girl, but the real reason I was there was to collect my thoughts before I had to face him.
My mind raced with explanations for the night before, but it was sleep that finally won out.
I was sound asleep when the futon disappeared from under me. “Shit.” I flailed, trying to catch myself before hitting the ground.
“Shhh,” Quarry whispered, holding me cradled in his arms.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice thick with sleep.
He tipped his head to the side and gave me an impatient glare. “Shh!” He jutted his chin toward Eliza, who was softly snoring on the couch.
“Put me down. I can walk.”
He didn’t listen. Instead, he carried me to the window and carefully guided me back into Till and Eliza’s bedroom. After folding his large body through, he caught my hand and dragged me down the hall to his old bedroom.
He hadn’t lived there in over six years, but it still looked like eighteen-year old Quarry would be coming back at any moment. Posters lined the walls, and boxing trophies and medals covered the rest. Two oak nightstands framed a queen-sized bed covered by a midnight-blue comforter. A single photo of Quarry, Mia, and me at Flint and Ash’s wedding graced the dresser.
I was lost in nostalgia until I heard the door shut.
“I went to check on you this morning, but you were already gone. What the hell are you doing over here so early?” he asked roughly.
“Uhh, Eliza and I made a date last night for a hangover party.”
His lips twisted in disbelief. “At six in the morning?”
“What? I had to stop and get breakfast.”
“For two hours?” He arched an angry eyebrow. “Till told me you got here at eight.”
Note to self: When trying to escape Quarry Page, do not run to his brother’s house for refuge.
“I…I wasn’t sure what I wanted to eat, so I drove around until something sounded good.”
“Right.” He thrust a hand into his hair but stared down at the floor. “Listen, we need to talk about last night.”
Fantastic. He wasn’t going to beat around the bush. I guessed now was as good a time as any.
I quickly started before I had to hear his explanation. “I’m really sorry. I guess I got a little handsy. I fell asleep listening to ‘Pony.’ I must have had Channing Tatum on the brain.”
His gaze lifted to mine, and the strangest tinge of disappointment showed in his eyes.
“Channing Tatum, huh?” His hands fisted on his hips.
“I don’t know. I don’t really remember. It could have been Chris Hemsworth, I suppose. I mean, if I was willing to grab your junk, it might have been a kinky combination of the two.” I shrugged.
Shaking his head, he began to pace the room. “Wow. Thanks.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Is that all you remember?”
Funny enough, no. It was just all I was willing to acknowledge. The rest…
God. The rest.
Those callused fingers of his gliding deliciously between my legs.